


It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by orphan_account



Series: anna’s midam dumps [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 25 Days of Midam, Adam Milligan is a Saint, Allergies, Anaphylactic Reactions, Anaphylaxis, Christmas, Doctor Adam Milligan, Emergency Rooms, Hospitals, Little Shit Lucifer (Supernatural), M/M, Meg Masters is a Saint, allergic reactions, basically everyone’s saints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21622390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Christmas Eve was one of the busiest nights of the year.Dumbasses. Dumbasses galore, is how Adam would explain it. For some reason, people did the stupidest shit during the holidays. He had no explanation for it; except, for maybe the fact, that people were crazy. That was what he was going to stick with.
Relationships: Michael/Adam Milligan
Series: anna’s midam dumps [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546252
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

**Author's Note:**

> prompt; Character A and Character B meet in the ER on Christmas Eve.
> 
> ok if u don’t know what this title’s from, who even are you?

Christmas Eve was one of the busiest nights of the year.

_Dumbasses_. Dumbasses galore, is how Adam would explain it. For some reason, people did the stupidest shit during the holidays. He had no explanation for it; except, for maybe the fact, that people were crazy. That was what he was going to stick with.

It was almost 2:00 A.M.- his shift almost over, luckily. Adam just wanted to get home and crash; get a good night’s rest before he had to live through the hell that was family dinner on Christmas Day. There was only one or two patients left for him to get to before he clocked out— a blessing from God, if he had anything to say about it. This year hadn’t been as busy as normal, but he had gotten the usual idiot who had done something to his penis; this year, a twenty-one-year-old man had attached a razor blade to a fidget spinner and—

Adam shuddered at the memory. It had been bloody and brutal. And he was an emergency room doctor; he had seen plenty of gruesome things in his time, but that had definitely been the worst.

“Doctor Milligan,” Adam was broke from the horrendous memory by one of the nurses, Meg, greeting him. “How does it feel to almost be able to get out of here?”

“Nice,” Adam nodded, chuckling. Meg gave him a grin. “As long as my last patient- patients?- didn’t do anything worse than fidget-spinner-boy, than I think I’ll be good.”

“One patient- anaphylaxis,” Meg explained, gesturing loosely to room 22. “His name’s Michael Shurley, he’s twenty-eight, and you’re gonna wanna year his story first hand.”

“Michael Shurley?” Adam asked, his curiosity piqued. He knew of the Shurley’s; who didn’t? They were practically the most well-known family in town; although, Chuck Shurley was the senator, so it made sense. “I’ll go check it out.”

Meg smirked, handing him a clipboard with Michael’s information on it. “Thanks, Adam. Lova ya’.”

“Love you too, Meg,” Adam didn’t bother looking up at her, instead he kept his eyes on the clipboard, flipping through the notes. Solumedrol, Benadryl, and Pepcid; all through IV. Adam usually preferred to give his patients Prednisone rather than Solumedrol when it came to steroids, but Castiel was usually a smart doctor. There were no notes on the Benadryl being diluted— and if that was the case, Adam was gonna cry. Undiluted Benadryl equaled another crazy patient. Or an unconscious one. 

Sighing, he made his way to room 22, knocking gently before sliding the door open. “Mr. Shurley? I’m Doctor Milligan,”

”That’s him.” Adam’s eyebrows shot up at the blond man sitting in one of the plastic chairs in the corner of the room. He was pointing to the hospital bed, where Adam presumed was Michael lay, his arms crossed as he glared at the blond man. “My big bro.”

“Shut up-“ Michael started, but the blond man- his younger brother- stopped him.

“Don’t talk. You should be resting, Mikey.”

Michael ignored the man, rolling his eyes. “I’m Michael- are those my discharge papers?” He asked, his eyebrows raised at Adam, glancing at the papers in his hands.

“Uh-“ Adam glanced down, reviewing Meg’s notes. He was really gonna cry when he looked at the corner of the paper- in bright pink pen, Meg had written ‘he’s a hottie’. Well, she wasn’t wrong. Michael was attractive. “No. I have to check you out first- then I can have Meg order your discharge papers, and we’ll get you back to your Christmas celebrations.”

Michael shot a look at his brother. “Maybe I’ll stay here. Lucifer’s annoying as fuck.”

Adam snorted, and felt kinda awful— but seriously, Lucifer? What the fuck? “Uh-“

‘Lucifer’ cackled; he was doubled over in laughter, while clutching his stomach. ”That’s- that’s what he’s been calling me since he got those IV drugs. It’s  hilarious,” He said in between laughs. “My name’s Luke. But Michael decided to call me Lucifer. It’s nice.”

“Yeah- okay,” Adam nodded, the ghost of a laugh escaping his mouth. “I’m gonna check your vitals and then you’ll be good to go,”

“Sweet,” Luke nodded, and Adam caught him winking at Michael. Michael rolled his eyes. “So, Doctor Milligan, where‘re you from?”

“Uh... Minnesota?” Adam answered as he set the notes down by the sink, and walked over to the bed. “Open your mouth,” He said, grabbing the stethoscope from his neck. Michael furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, before Adam clicked it, and a tiny light turned on. He held it above Michael’s throat, instantly noting the irritation in it.

“Just wondering,” He heard Luke answer, obviously shrugging as he did so. Adam ignored him, for the most part, keeping his concentration on Michael.

“Well, there is some redness inside the throat, still. Nothing to be concerned about, unless you start feeling your symptoms coming back. Your throat might be sore for a few days, at the very most. Is your voice scratchier than normal?” Adam explained, clicking the flashlight off and raising his hand right hand to Michael’s throat, setting it gently on top of the esophagus. He didn’t give Michael a chance to answer before mumbling, “Swallow, please.”

Adam pulled his hand away once Michael swallowed. “Yeah- my voice is more scratchy.”

“You sound like you just gave a blowjob,” Luke scoffed, his arms crossed over his chest while he was slumped in the chair, like a petulant child. Adam let out a bark of laughter, trying to disguise it as a cough, but ultimately failed.

“Shut up, Luke,” Michael snapped his head around, hissing at his brother. “My _God_ , you’re an asshole.”

“Takes one to know o-“

“Michael, can you get on your back?” Adam asked, and the heated atmosphere of the room instantly fizzled out. He was tired, Michael was kinda hot, and he was  definitely not in the mood to deal with any idiots tonight;  any more idiots. “You’ve had gastro syndromes with this reaction, right?”

Adam watched Michael shoot a glance at Luke, and Luke was violently nodding, his face scrunched you in disgust, clearly recalling a bad memory. “Yes. He has— he threw up on the Christmas Tree. All over some of the gifts too. A _nasty_ mess.”

“Okay, look, dude, if you’re gonna keep answering for him- and stupid answers, nonetheless- you’re never gonna get out of here.” Adam snapped because,  _God_ , he just wanted to get home and sleep. 

“Luke-“ Michael started, his tone heavy. Luke looked a bit smug as he slumped even further in his chair. Adam barely jew the guy, but he could tell he was a piece of work. “He’s- uh- my brother’s not joking. I did puke on the Christmas tree.”

“Oh.” Adam sighed out of his nose, massaging the bridge of his nose. “In that case, roll onto your back and- uh- tell me about this reaction of yours.”

Michael complied immediately, and Adam internally thanked God for the fact that Luke had decided to shut up. “I was diagnosed with an allergy to gluten a couple years ago. Not celiac— it’s an anaphylactic allergy. This is the fourth time a reaction like this has happened, I believe.”

Adam frowned, taking a step forward and rolling up his sleeves. Michael had a look of confusion on his face until Adam started pressing down on his stomach. “Does this hurt? And you can keep going,”

“Uh- just a bit,” Michael assured, and sent a glance to Luke— who, when Adam looked over at him, was snickering, the little asshole—. “My other brother and my sister- Gabriel and Raphael- cooked dinner, and they must have accidentally put something in the food with gluten. Within minutes of eating the meal, I gained hives and my throat began to swell. And... then I threw up on the Christmas tree. I did an Epipen, called 9-1-1, and... uh- well, here we are.”

“Huh.” Adam shrugged, removing his hands, and pulling out his stethoscope. He slid the metal under Michael’s hospital gown, letting it hover over his skin for a moment. “This might be a bit cold. Just take deep breaths.” He pressed it to Michael’s chest, and the man jumped slightly, but did as Adam instructed. “You can relax,” He mumbled, setting the stethoscope on Michael’s heart, listening to his pulse. “Your airways are clear- just a little bit of wheezing. Nothing to be concerned about; you don’t feel like you have a lump in your throat, do you?”

Michael shook his head, looking a bit dazed. “No, I don’t.”

“Good,” Adam smiled, grabbing Meg’s notes from where they sat. “I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be discharged. You know the procedures; come back if any of your symptoms return, when to do an Epipen. Blah, blah, blah. I’ll have Meg bring in the discharge papers. I hope you start to feel better.”

Adam gave a quick wave to Michael and Luke, and then exited the room, letting out air he didn’t even realize he was holding. He could finally go home and  _sleep_.

(Somewhere in his mind, he was telling himself; _Adam: 1, hot patient number one: 0_.)

* * *

He woke up at 9:54 A.M. on December 25, and he would have slept a lot longer if it wasn’t for his phone dinging. Adam groaned, rolling over to his side and feeling for it on the nightstand. He groggily opened it, reading the message and who it was from. 

_**Meg Masters** , now _

_ last night when i walked in to give that hot patient his discharge papers, the guy with him was giving him shit about smth and the hot patient’s reply was ‘give me a break, asshole. i’m on drugs and a really hot doctor just manhandled me, i’m allowed to be a little turned on.’ _

_**Meg Masters** , now _

_ though u might appreciate that _

And despite how unethical it was, Adam grinned at his phone, before promptly falling asleep once again. A man needed his energy when it came to dealing with his family— especially on Christmas. 

**Author's Note:**

> yes, this entire story is inspired off of an emergency room trip i had last year, it was real fucking wild? 
> 
> 10 days until 12/12 i’m literally screeching?????? h ow??


End file.
